


Cas and Dean talk and whatever

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, M/M, Porn, Post-Episode: s12e10 Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets, Top Castiel, just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11212311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Set after season 12 episode 10. Ishams a JERK and Cas and Dean have a chick flick moment?





	Cas and Dean talk and whatever

**Author's Note:**

> Set after season 12 episode 10. Ishams a JERK and Cas and Dean have a chick flick moment?

"Hey Cas" he hovered in the threshold of the map room. He had left to leave Cas to himself, assuming the guy needed some time to decompress after murdering an old friend. No matter how much of a dick Isham was Dean had to recognize that to Cas he meant something. He returned thinking he'd find the room empty and he could get to some late night work but he found Cas, glued to the chair where he had left him, still nursing the beer that at this point had to be warm. 

"Hello Dean, I can go-" the angel stood to leave, loosely holding the useless beer, but Dean stopped him.

"No man you don't have to leave." Making sure Castiel returned to his former position, the focus and intent returning to his glare at the open space before him. Dean knew Isham was a friend, and got a funny feeling deep in his gut that him and Castiel were close, which may or may not have bothered him in a small way he ignored, but he couldn't understand why he was still staring into space as if it would give him his answers. "You good? I mean, other than the whole Rosemary's baby and eye patch who could decide she isn't all forgiving."

"Yes Dean, I'm just..." he fiddled with the rim of the beer bottle. "I feel guilty."

"About Isham? Cas I know he was your friend and all but he didn't seem too keen on you and he was kind of a dick..." dead tried to comfort Cas in explaining Ishams behavior, as if being a crazy dick-wad was reason enough for Cas to murder him. Castiel had to at least be able to rationalize that he had to answer for what he did Lily Sunder. 

"He was more than a friend Dean. We fought together, side by side. The bond we formed as a garrison, its different from anything else..." Cas trailed off. Dean gritted his teeth, something green and nagging twisting at his insides. He pushed it down, reassuring himself that Castiel was loyal to him and his brother. Just because they were brothers in arms now didn't mean Cas couldn't have a past. "He was my leader and I would do everything for him. I was just never enough"

"Cas..." Dean tried to find the words, hopefully words that were remotely right. "Cas I'm sorry." 

"Don't be Dean, Isham had always been the jealous type. Jealous of humanity, jealous of others happiness..." Cas chewed on his bottom lip and stared thoughtfully at the beer bottle. The little green thing in the pit of his stomach got a little bigger. 

"Yeah, jealous enough that he'd go all lover scorned and murder his exes kid." Dean muttered to himself, running a hand over his face. 

"He moved on quickly though." He laughed bitterly to himself. Dean gave him a quizzical look because there was something behind those tired blue eyes. Cas averted Deans stare of curiosity. "Isham and I were closer than the rest of the garrison. Much closer." 

Deans eyes widened. Cas could not be insinuating what he sounded like he was insinuating- though that would explain his forlorn stares and his massive guilt. But didn't angels not do that? Or at least not with each other he thought-

"Dean." Cas snapped Dean back to reality and Dean swiftly realized he had momentarily short circuited. There was a soft sad chuckle out of Castiel that Dean almost didn't hear. "Dean don't act as if that's foreign to you. After all you yourself have had relations of that sort with angels. We aren't eunuchs, just angels." 

Dean swallowed remembering Anna. "So...you and Isham? You really?" Deans tongue felt too big for his mouth. 

"Hey guys I'm heading to... bed." Sam trailed off, sensing the tension and avoiding it at all costs. 

"Yup g'night." Deans voice felt strained, it sounded higher than it should be. His palms were sweaty. Why did he feel so sick to his stomach?

Sam rolled his eyes and left the two. Whatever they were on about now, he didn't want to be there for the end. The argument earlier was awkward enough.

"Dean?" Cas looked quizzically at him, studying his expression. Dean shouldn't care, why did he care that he and Isham...he and Isham did whatever he didn't want to know.

"So did you guys bump uglies?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. His neck felt hot, and the redness was peaking out from under his color. He regretted the words, he wanted to take them back and drag them into a grave bury them forever. He didn't want to know what Cas did was isham. He didn't want to know if Isham had touched him. He didn't want to know if Castiel touched Isham. 

"If by bump uglies you mean sex, then yes Dean." Cas caught his eyes and somehow, Dean became redder. Cas averted his eyes. "Isham is an ex of sorts. By human terms at least."

The little green thing felt so big in Deans stomach it was like he couldn't breath. There just wasn't enough room.

"So that's why he was such a dick..." Dean tentatively reached a hand to place it on Cas's shoulder, shaky and glad Cas couldn't feel how clammy they were. He felt awful, knowing that now Cas hadn't just killed a friend, but a past lover. The thought of it scooped his thoughts out like a melon baller.

"That and you and Sam." Cas took a swig of the beer as if it could help.

"What?" Dean locked his eyes onto Cas's and their gazes remained trapped in each other's.

"He didn't just hate humans Dean, he hated you two specifically because you are close to me." Cas paused, furrowing his eyebrows. "He hated me ever since I raised you from perdition."

Dean felt lightheaded. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, only listen. 

"He knew I loved humanity more than I could ever love him and when I left the garrison to raise you, he's never forgiven me." Cas gripped the beer bottle tight. "He couldn't accept I had moved on."

"Cas I-" Dean wanted to say something, anything but all he could get out was Cas's name. 

"Dean. I'm sorry I killed Billie. I know you're mad about it, and I know there'll be consequences but I-" their eyes met, "I couldn't let Mary kill herself when I know what'd do to you. To Sam. The world needs as many Winchesters as possible I couldn't let Billie take one, anyone, away. It was stupid but sometimes I don't think I just do what feels right because I want to protect you."

"Cas I'm not mad at you- I'm just" Dean stumbled over the words, his mouth wouldn't work.

"Dean, I don't like it when you're mad. I don't like it when we fight. Isham and the nephylim and everything- yeah it bothers me but most of all you bother me. Everything you do gets to me."

Dean rose to his feet. His legs felt weak why did he feel weak? Better question why did he want to hold Cas to him and make him realize it was all going to be okay? It wouldn't all be okay, nothing was ever okay, but he wanted to make him not upset- to fix it. Cas rose too, taking Deans silence as queue to leave. Dean grabbed the sleeve of that stupid trench coat and yanked him back, and pulled him into a hug. Dean was never one to use touchy feely words and crap.

They embraced, but Dean pulled back, leaning against the lighted table awkwardly. "I'm not mad at you Cas. Not at all, I'm just worried and I guess I project that or whatever."

Cas let the corner of his mouth quip up in a small grin. Dean couldn't help but mirror it. Again, before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "So have you had uh- you know had any other kind of- um- affairs like- such as- that- the one you had with uh...Isham?"

"What are you asking Dean?" Cas squinted his eyes and cocked his head slightly, in the way he does, and Dean swallows hard wit regret. His heads full of cotton. He's on some sort of self destructive auto pilot because he lets words tumble out that he NEVER intended anyone EVER to hear.

"Have you boned any other guys?"

Cas stood still, eyeing Dean. "No."

Dean tried to regain control of his body. "Okay cool I'm going to go to bed now see you in the-"

Cas trapped Deans face in his hands and pressed their lips together. They had kissed before, when their life was in peril they had kissed because they didn't know if they would live or die but it didn't feel like this. When Dean was too drunk to remain in control he would kiss Cas and never remember, but it didn't feel like this. Sometimes Cas would kiss Dean in his dreams, but it still didn't feel like this. This kiss felt less like there was a purpose behind it. It felt like chatting about the weather. It was a conversation. A mutual understanding. Dean nearly melted where he stood because the kiss felt the way it did. It felt right.

Cas pulled away and Deans bright green eyes were widened with shock, but only shock. He didn't pull himself away from Cas's hands still cupping his face. He didn't tear his eyes from Cas's.

"Cas...Cas I'm not gay." Dean muttered the words like reciting his coffee order. 

"Sexual orientation is a construct Dean." His face fell, knowing he must have misinterpreted the way their lips gently moved, barely moved against one another.

"Fuck it."

Dean grabbed the lapels of his dumb trench coat like his life depended on it and he smashed them together. They bumped noses, Cas smiled against the kiss and Dean kissed his teeth, Cas tripped over his own feet as Dean pushed himself into Cas. Soft laughs no louder than a breath escaped between then the few sparse moments their lips would separate. Dean refused to question it. He refused to think about anything other than Cas in this moment. He needed to forget everything and focus on Cas only Cas. In this moment there was nothing but him.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas's shoulders and slotted a leg between his, releasing a barely there gasp from them both. He pushed Cas so the backs of his thighs hit the table. Cas's hands sinfully slid down Deans neck and chest to rest on his waist with a vice grip. Dean slid a hand up to the nape of Cas’s neck, carding his fingers through his mess of hair and tugging gently.

A low growl found its way up Cas’s throat and his hands shot to grip Deans hips for dear life, pulling him somehow even closer. Dean pulled back from the kiss. "Oh my god..." he muttered, definitely not a moan, nope not a moan, throwing his head back at how ungodly sexy that sound was and how right Cas’s hands felt on his hips. Cas took advantage of this position and locked his mouth onto Deans neck. Dean definitely didn't moan again and his eyes slid shut as Cas kissed wet and sloppy down his neck. He nibbled his way to Deans jaw relishing in the sounds escaping from him. 

Dean couldn’t focus on any on thing, all of Cas was so much Cas and he couldn’t decide whether to try and focus on their packages, hardening and pressed flush to each other, only their clothes between them. Or maybe he should focus on the strong hands gripping at his hips, bound to leave bruises, the very edges of those calloused fingers grazing the skin just under Deans t shirt. Dean settled on trying to focus on Castiels mouth, that awful mouth, that mouth working at one spot on his neck just below his ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Deans spine right to the pooling warmth in his stomach. 

Dean tried to speak, he really did try, but it came out as more of a whimper, which he will never admit to anyone. “Cas- a hickey? Really? What are we teen- ooohh god.” Dean trailed off into a soft moan that he was finally ready to admit was a moan when Cas nibbled at his ear and one of those hands, those traitorous hands slid down Deans hip to cup his ass. 

“Shut up Dean.” Cas captured Deans open mouth with his, just barely grazing his tongue inside until he gently bit Deans lower lip. Both of Cas's hands had made their way to Deans ass, kneading it gently. Dean let a small, high gasp escape as his hips bucked forward into Cas without permission, hand gripping tighter at the hair at the nape of Cas's neck. Cas pulled back just far enough to look into Deans eyes. Cas let his hands rest, cupping Deans ass gently as he got nose to nose with Dean and closed his eyes. His hands slid up Deans back, hitching his shirt up slightly in the process, and he savored every inch of warmth his hands grazed as he explored under Deans flannel. His hands gripped at the t shirt. “Dean...”

“Cas I want this, I want whatever this is I want it- I want you-“ Dean babbled, chasing for Cas's lips and kissing him. “Please.” He breathed against his lips.

That was all Cas needed and he grinned, yanking Dean up and flipping them so Dean was laying on his back on the lighted table, and Cas began to crawl over him onto the table too when Deans hand on his chest stopped him.

Cas looked up to see Dean bubbling with laughter on the table. “Cas I appreciate the enthusiasm but can we at least move this off the table? Pretty sure this thing is glass- and expensive.” Cas smiled and tugged Dean standing. Dean was still laughing and he pressed his lips to Cas's. “How about a bedroom?”

“Are you sure Dean?” Cas asked, meeting Deans eyes. Dean nodded and found Cas's hand, twining his fingers between the other mans. In all honesty, both men would have been content if the night ended in hand holding, because their hands felt made for one another and they were content. Dean led them along the hallways of the bunker, stepping softly in an attempt to stay quiet. The idea of Sam waking up and finding them like this, all tousled and shit, shot a small irrational icicle of fear into Dean, but it was short lived when on their way down the hallway to Deans bedroom, Cas slipped his hand into the back pocket of Deans jeans. Once in Deans room, Cas sat on the bed and waited for Dean to lock the door. Dean paused, staring at the doorknob. 

“Cas what do you want?” Dean asked, both curious and scared. He didn’t know where this would go. He just knew there was only one direction, forward. Forward meaning less clothes, and more exploration, all of which Dean didn’t know if he was ready for. He wanted it, that was a separate thing, but was he ready for it? No clue.

“Well,” Cas stood off the bed and slowly sauntered over to Dean, who stood with his back to the door. “I want to touch every inch of your skin, for starters.” Dean gulped. “And maybe after I’ve felt every bit of it with my hands I’ll see what it all tastes like.” Dean let out a shaky breath. “Then, eventually, if you’ll let me, I want to feel inside of you. The pace of this is yours to decide.”

“Cas I-“ Dean sighed heavy, feeling Cas's heat radiate over him. No personal space, at least never from now on. “Cas I don’t know what I’m ready for. Can we just go at it and see where it goes?”

“You’ll tell me the moment I’ve crossed the line right?” Cas cupped Deans face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. Dean hummed in response and pressed his lips to Cas's. Warm and natural, like two puzzle pieces destined to be next to each other, their lips slotting together was divine design. Dean rested his hands on Cas's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, and before Dean knew what hit him, Cas got his hands under Deans ass again and lifted him. Dean let his legs fall open and rest on either side of Cas before he was no so gently dropped onto the bed.

“Cas I have legs, remember?” He laughed out, propping himself on his elbows.

“Yes I remember. You also have far too many clothes on but you don’t see me complaining.” Cas deadpanned as he crawled over Dean and settled between his legs again. Dean had made a mental note that while he felt a little emasculated, he really REALLY liked opening his legs up to Cas in any way shape or form from here on out so help him Chuck. “But I might start complaining if it doesn’t change soon.” He whispered matter-o-fact-ly, that deep gravely voice making Dean shiver as Cas's lips brushed his ear. 

Cas braced himself over Dean, hands on either side of his head, their cocks brushing together through the clothing. Dean bit his lip and let his hand wander, never breaking eye contact with Cas. His hands slid over his chest, down his sides, around his waist and up his back, digging his fingers into Cas's shoulders and dragging his hands down before deciding to let them rest on his ass. Cas had a look in his eyes, one he had only seen when Cas was about to fight someone, but was slightly different. Dean gave his ass a little squeeze and smiled up at this gorgeous, serious, dick of an angel. 

At that, Cas began nearly ripping Deans shirt, pulling him up to get off the sleeves and he threw it across the room. Dean huffed a laugh and sat up, lifting his arms so Cas could strip him. Cas was fumbling with his belt, breathing heavy, when Dean placed his hands gently over Cas's. “I feel a little underdressed.” He mumbled, smiling and helping Cas shrug off his trench coat. Even with several layers left, he still looked naked, he was just so used to the look of the coat. Tentative fingers loosened Cas's tie and Dean locked eyes with the angel.

They slowly made it down to only boxers and Dean, somehow, felt suddenly self-conscious. He hadn’t felt even remotely nervous about something like this since he was a teenager and Dean didn’t know why all of the sudden now he was, face to face with Cas. Cas his best friend. Cas the hyper-serious mega-literal suit monkey. Cas the angel. Cas his angel.

Dean chewed on his lower lip as Cas urged Dean to lie on his back. Cas hovered over him, settled between Deans legs, and he readdressed the little purple mark on his neck again. Dean smiled and brought his hands back up to that mess of hair. How again is it possible to have hair this soft? “Dean don’t do that.” Cas growled into Deans ear, sliding against him.

Dean froze, hands in Cas’s hair and neck stretched to allow Cas access to that VERY sensitive spot he was placing his mark on, legs folded up but not quite wrapped around Cas's waist –yet-. “What- pull your hair?” Dean whispered in response. Receiving no answer, his expression grew mischievous and he tested the waters, tugging lightly at the hair in his fists. A groaning growl rolled through Cas and his body rolled against dean, brushing his impossibly hard dick against Deans. He sighed in response. “Now why wouldn’t I want to do that?”

Cas had that predatorial ‘I’m going to devour you’ look and he snatched Deans hands, forcing them to the bed. “I don’t usually lose control Dean.” He said, or rather, growled through his teeth. It shouldn’t have been sexy, it should have been scary. But dean couldn’t kid himself, his boner gave it away.

“I trust you Cas.” The blue of the eyes he knew so well was almost completely gone. Cas kissed- no- attacked his mouth and slid his hand to Deans package, rubbing his palm over the bulge in his boxers. Dean moaned into his mouth and Cas stroked him through the fabric. He kept one hand twined in his hair for safekeeping, the other, blunt nails dragging against Cas's skin, until he slipped it into Cas's boxers and groped his bare ass. Boy, he loved that cute little ass. 

Cas bucked and grinded against dean again, hurriedly pushing down the front of deans boxers and his own. “Can I-“ Was Cas seriously about to ask permission to grind against him? 

“Fuck yeah-“ Dean huffed, pushed Cas down by his ass so their dicks slotted together. Cas experimentally rolled his hips they both moaned, low and soft. The feeling of Cas's, hot and throbbing, sliding against him wet with precum. Dean couldn’t think straight, couldn’t stop the lewd noises he was making. He wouldn’t admit- ever- that his voice made these noises. Cas nibbled and kissed across deans neck and jaw rocking against him at an agonizingly slow pace. The room was filled with a symphony of gasps, low moans, slick skin moving against itself, and Cas's low voice whispering sweet nothings into deans ear. “You feel so good, so good Dean-“ 

Dean wrapped his legs around Cas's waist, pulling them even more flush together. “Cas-“ he mewled. No he didn’t mewl, it was anything else. It wasn’t a mewl. “Cas I want- I need more- please.” The words tumbled out of him like a prayer.

Their underwear discarded, their bodies pressed close, Cas propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Dean. “Tell me.” He chaste kiss to his lips. “Tell me what you want Dean.”

Dean swallowed, his mind fogged. He didn’t know what he wanted, he just wanted more. When dean hesitated to answer, Castiel sat back on his knees and Deans strained to see him. All of him, every inch of that beautiful man, his chest reddened and his dick swollen and slick. Cas, never breaking his stare, ran his hands over every bit of Deans legs, moving his way up, caressing his thighs, avoiding his crotch with an evil grin, sliding his thumbs over Deans hips before lowering his hands to playfully grab his ass, he beamed and ran his hands over every inch of his back, up his belly and chest, down his shoulders and stopping at his hands. He leaned in close, nose to nose. “You’ll tell me to stop right?” Dean nodded in response. 

“I want to make you feel good Cas please-“ he pushed his hands out of the other mans grip and held Cas's face. Dean felt overcome with a need to reciprocate. He had a desire to do everything within his earthly power to make Cas cum so hard he’d see stars. “Let me... I don’t really know what I’m doing but I want to do this.”

Cas smiled with a foreign, a fond look lacing the crows feet framing his eyes. He nodded and sat back on his knees, arms open in an invitation for Dean. Dean sat up, taking a deep breath for bravery, and he kissed Cas. He kissed his lips, kissed that straight line of a jaw, kissed the stubble that peppered his upper neck, down his neck, his collar bone, down his chest to a nipple. He experimentally took one into his mouth and licked it, drawing a breathy noise from Cas. Smiling around the nipple, Dean proceeded, down his abdomen to his bellybutton, dusting the trail of hair that led downward with kisses. Dean had never done this before. He had thought about it on a whim, wondered what it would be like to have another mans penis sit heavy in his mouth, then promptly locked the thought away when he got an impromptu boner. Sitting here, face to face- head? with a beautiful dick, he let the thought bubble back up.

He looked up from between Cas's legs, breath gentle on the leaking tip. Cas braced his hands on those beautiful shoulders, dusted with golden freckles, lips parted. Dean licked the tip gently, gripping the base, then let his tongue slide over the slit. Cas had tunnel vision for Dean and only dean, keeping a note in his mind that Deans mouth- that beautiful fucking mouth, was made for cock. Dean took the head between his lips, the illicit and shaky moan that fell from Cas only emboldening him. 

Dean may have never done it before, but he did do some research, and he tried his darndest to mimic the movements and make it the best he could for Cas. He worked at this cock with focus, rutting his hips into the sheets to relieve himself at the same time. One hand worked to stroke what his mouth couldn’t swallow around, the other massaging the sac. Cas, lost in what he swore had to be the best blow job ever, was heaving his breaths, an arm slung over his eyes, the other gripping deans shoulder with bruising strength. Dean swirled his tongue around the head and Cas's hips jerked up reflexively, shoving his dick further into Deans mouth without warning. 

Dean chocked and popped off with a slurp, coughing. Cas shot up and gripped his face. “Are you okay? Have I hurt you?” His voice was deadly serious, fingers carding through Deans hair gently.

Dean nodded “I’m okay,” his voice was hoarse, and he laughed softly. “Promise.” His lips were swollen and wet with a mystery mixture of spit and precum. The look of concern faded from Cas's face only slightly. Dean started to lower himself again “Can I-“ 

“No.” Cas gripped his shoulders firmly and held him up. “I want to try something okay? Do you trust me?” Dean nodded and Cas pecked him on the lips, tasting himself there. Cas lowered Dean to his back, running his hands down his body to his thighs. He spread Deans legs and rubbed his hands over the strong muscles there. Cas leaned over him and brushed his fingers over deans lips. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. “Open that pretty mouth.”

Deans dick jumped in response and his lips parted, allowing Cas to slip his fingers inside. It was an odd feeling, sure. But was it also simultaneously hands down the most erotic thing Dean had ever partaken in? Yes sir. Dean let Cas swirl his fingers around his mouth, doing what he pleased in his ‘pretty mouth’. He pulled his fingers, soaking wet, out of Deans mouth and replaced them with his tongue for a moment before whispering into deans lips. “Get on your hands and knees for me honey.”

Dean nearly melted but managed to get onto his hands and knees, ass facing Cas. If he was nervous before, he was ten times nervous now, his ass out in the open for the heavens and his angel to see. He close and eyes and waited for a finger to enter him, braced for discomfort. Instead he felt Cas's wet fingers brush over his hole lightly, and then he felt it.

Cas cautiously ran his tongue over Deans entrance, waiting for a reaction. Dean had frozen, but his hands gripped the sheets and his toes had curled. Without objections, Cas continued, rolling his tongue over Dean, massaging that hole with his mouth until Deans thighs were shaking and the moans flowed out of dean like song. Dean had dropped his head to the bed, mind blank and euphoric. Cas removed his wet hot mouth and hooked an arm around deans leg, flipping him onto his back with ease. “Lubricant.” he ordered with a growl. Dean, slowly coming down from the clouds of ass eating, reached a shaky hand up and fumbled in the drawer beside the bed, retrieving the lube. 

Dean spread his legs wide, closing his eyes again. He had never even considered being a bottom when he briefly thought about sex with another man. He always assumed he would be a top. But now, with his legs spread, waiting and truly hoping for his ass to be angelically breached, he came to terms with the truth. Cas, with lube slicked fingers, massaged at Deans hole. When he felt Dean was relaxed enough, he pushed one finger in. Deans face scrunched and he opened his eyes, aware that his dick was rapidly softening. He reached down and grabbed the base of his cock, but Cas swatted his hand away. Dean looked down at Cas, who was currently one knuckle deep in his ass. “Does it hurt?” Cas asked, eyes dark.

“No,” deans answer sounding more like a question. “it’s just different. You can keep going but I don’t think I can stay hard-ahh fa- fuckin” Before dean could rationalize trying to force his boner for the sake of the festivities, Cas's velvet mouth slipped over the head of deans half hard cock. From then on out, it was safe to say there was no erectile issues. Dean found himself babbling profanities, unable to stop despite how embarrassingly lewd and whimpering they were. Cas had worked two fingers up to the very last knuckle, working slowly into Dean. 

A small spot, a heavenly spot, was discovered by Cas's middle finger and Dean moaned so loud it could, should, be considered a scream. He clapped a hand over his own mouth, staring down at Cas in wonder and surprise. He had never felt anything like that and he craved more. Dean didn’t realize that Cas had stopped, his fingers frozen in his ass and his mouth enveloping the head of his cock. Cas, with mischief in those gorgeous eyes, readdressed the spot that had elicited Deans scream. Cas focused on that spot intently, tracing the vein underneath Deans dick with his tongue. Dean had to shove his knuckles into his mouth to muffle the impossibly loud whimpers of want. Cas stretched into him with a third finger and Deans hands shot down to grip the sheets. “Cas...”

The only word dean could fathom anymore was Cas's name, over and over again, muttering it in warning as he felt his release draw near. He found the dignity to grab Cas by the hair and drag him off his dick, promptly stopping the slow in and out of his fingers. “Dean.” He growled in warning. Dean, his breathing hot and heavy, reached down to grip the base of his cock.

“Cas please- sorry- I just- “ Dean was stopped when Cas was nose to nose with him, fingers still buried in dean. 

“Dean you know what I said about pulling my hair like that.” The warning sounded less like scolding and more like an invitation. 

“I didn’t want to cum in your mouth- I don’t want to cum yet.” Dean swallowed thickly, trying to regain any shred of composure he clung to while three fingers sat idly in his asshole.

Cas slowly moved his fingers, rubbing the spot. Dean babbled out, voice broken. “I’m scared as shit but- ooh- but I- god please just fuck me.”

No one but him and Cas were allowed to know he begged for this. Anyone else to know must face swift execution. Cas smirked rummaging with his free hand until he let his fingers slip free. Dean gritted his teeth at the loss and fell back to the bed. Cas's rough hands slid under deans thighs and pushed his hips up, Cas slotted between Deans legs where he belongs. Dean felt the blunt, hot head of Cas's cock pressed against his wet, sensitive entrance. He covered his face, overcome with a fiery embarrassment.

“Dean.” Cas was very serious and Dean met his eyes reluctantly. “If you want to stop-“

“Shut the fuck up Cas- god.” He propped himself up on his elbows to gaze down his body at Cas, fitting like a duck in water there trapped in his legs. “Cas I want this so bad, but it’s finally dawning on me that my best friend is about to fuck my ass. It’s a little daunting”

Cas closed his eyes thoughtfully. Dean could feel his Cas's dick twitch at his entrance. Cas pushed forward, opening those eyes and locking them onto deans, slowly making his way into deans beautiful ass. “I’m not going to fuck your ass dean.” He kept urging forward, looking for permission in deans stare. Dean could only focus on breathing, jaw slack, relishing on the surprisingly tolerable stretch. “I’m going to make love to you until you unravel. There’s a difference.”

Dean let out a chocked noise, hands balled into tight fists feeling all of Cas inside him. Cas remained still, letting dean adjust to his cock. “Cas...” the name stumbled out of his mouth, the most broken and beautiful affirmation Cas could have ever asked for. 

Cas found a slow rhythm, gently grinding into dean while his hands explored deans body, finding what small inconspicuous spots made him shiver. Dean meanwhile, had lost all capacity for thought and was sure Cas's penis had stolen it. He gasped Cas's name, yanking him down by the nape of the neck to connect their mouths. Everything had to touch, he needed to feel every inch of Cas on his skin. He rocked his hips with the movement of Cas's, searching for more, arching up off the bed searching for more contact of any kind. The head of Cas's cock grazed that treasured little prostate inside him and Dean may or may not have begged for more. Obliging and panting Cas grabbed deans waist to adjust the angle of those stuttering hips of his. Deans legs wrapped tightly around Cas like his life depended on it. Everything was burning hot, Deans dick was sore and searching for touch, he felt sweat pool on his chest and the back of his neck, everything was so much it was overwhelming and perfect all at once. 

“Cas I- I want to- wanna ride you-“ Dean stuttered, arms around Cas's shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin on the back of his neck hard enough to leave some serious marks. Cas stilled mid thrust, buried deep, he looked at Dean with wide eyes.

“Are you sure Dean?” Cas asked, causing dean to nod feverishly. How the fuck did his voice get deeper? It sounded like he gargled gravel. Whatever happened, it somehow made Cas even sexier. Cas gripped Deans hips hard and rolled onto his back, propping Dean up on his lap. The breath was knocked out of Deans lungs at the new position, it felt like he could feel so much more, felt so much more full. He straddled Cas comfortably, bracing his hands on Cas's chest for a moment to regain composure. His mouth fell open in a silent moan as he lifted himself up and slowly slid back down. Dean loved this control, loved being able to see every inch of Cas as he brought him closer, he felt responsible for the pleasure and it swelled his confidence. He smiled lazily, eyes lidded with lust, as he sped up.

Cas made a mental note that Dean had hips made for riding like this, his eyes never leaving deans as he bit his lip, muffling his low moan. He held deans ass as he watched as Dean take control, a smug lust driven and loosely smug grin pulling at his lips.

It didn’t take long before Deans expression changed and his eyes squeezed shut, “Shit- shit fuck Cas I’m gonna cum-“ mouth falling slack as he chanted profanities and Cas's name. His hips stuttered, a feral moan that bordered on scream escaping his lips as Cas guided him through his orgasm. Deans thighs twitched as he remained fully seated on Cas's erect dick. Cas felt very close, and Dean could tell. Dean, eyes lidded and his shoulders relaxed, he lazily rolled his hips until it was Cas's turn to shout the others name. “God Dean you're so good- fucking-“ and almost inaudible groan fell from Cas's lips as his hips jerked upwards into Dean, filling him. Dean, fell forward onto Cas, head resting on his chest as Cas's dick slowly slid out of him. 

The crash back to reality wasn’t as harsh as dean expected it to be. It was less of a sexual fear and more of a confused comfort.

“I just fucked my best friend...” he muttered into Cas's neck. 

“Is that a statement, a question, or a realization?” Cas asked, voice raspy. He wrapped his arms loosely around deans middle, holding him as Dean lay on his chest.

“All three? Probably.” Deans nose nuzzled Cas's jaw. Neither one of them remembers falling asleep, sticky with cum, tangled in each other, the lights still on in the room.

The next morning Dean woke up to an empty bed and proceeded with his morning routine as usual. The only hint that last night wasn’t a dream was the dried cum and his sore ass. Showered and starving, Dean found his way to the kitchen, eyeing the contents of the fridge with his coffee mug in hand. 

“Dean?” Sam asked, sounding confused. “Is...is that a hickey?”

Dean nearly dropped his coffee, hand flying up to cover his neck.

“Yes it is Sam.” Cas answered from the doorway, looking the same as he always did despite the smirk pulling minutely at one side of that beautiful mouth.

“Jesus Christ” Sam covered his face in his hands, putting 2 and 2 together and painting the mental picture he never wanted. Sam didn’t look either of them in the eye for a day or two.


End file.
